


Lost In New York

by miera



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fluff, Multi, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-27
Updated: 2010-07-27
Packaged: 2017-10-10 20:00:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/103718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miera/pseuds/miera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fluffy AU fic where most of the SGA gang work in a NYC Starbucks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written as a WIP in my lj last year. I'd been meaning to clean it up and flesh it out before reposting and finally got around to it.

If the East 42nd Street Starbucks wasn't the busiest one in the entire world, John figured it had to be at least in the top 10. Next to Grand Central Station, up the road from the New York public library, in the vast upper east side nexus between the Empire State Building, Rockefeller Center and the UN, it was the perfect cross-section of Manhattan. Students, tourists, shoppers, city workers and diplomats all drifted through the store hungry for caffeine and sugar.

Teyla, John's boss, had worked hard to become the manager of the location at her relatively young age. She'd also worked hard to assemble the team of people who staffed the store during the busiest hours. John and Ronon had developed a shorthand ability to communicate as they worked behind the counter and dodged around each other to concoct the often-ridiculously detailed orders that poured in during the morning rush hour. Laura and Chuck processed the customers and the money. Chuck's freakishly good memory helped, given the number of harried assistants who rushed in every day to get their bosses' coffee orders.

The assistants also learned fast not to thumb their noses at the counter people. One particularly smarmy guy with a ponytail had given Laura a lot of attitude and Ronon had "accidentally" not closed the lid on his coffee all the way. Then Evan, the cop who stopped in every morning at the end of his shift before going home to Queens, had happened to knock into the guy on his way out the door. Piping hot coffee all over the guy's crotch. John figured the guy had learned his lesson. Don't fuck with the baristas.

***

The morning rush was finally over and John found himself alone behind the counter. Ronon was cleaning up the abandoned newspapers and spills on the tables. Laura had run to the bathroom and Chuck... well he was probably off arguing with his girlfriend yet again.

It was snowing lightly outside. It was the only time snow in New York was nice, when it was fresh. If it lasted longer than 5 minutes it got dirty and ugly, but right now, it was pretty. And timely, since it was nearly Christmas.

The door swished open and a woman entered the store. She was tall, nearly as tall as him which was rather rare. John put on his practiced smile and went to the cash register. "Hi, what can I get for you?"

Pretty green eyes met his and John saw that his customer had a pretty face to match. Snowflakes were melting in her dark, curly hair. She was wearing an expensive-looking coat over a suit. He pegged her for an executive or one of the UN crowd immediately.

She glanced towards the board and at then looked back him and paused. John realized he'd been staring at her a little intensely and he swallowed.

She probably could've gone either way in response, but instead of getting frosty she smiled at him. "I was leaning towards tea, unless you have a recommendation of something else?"

She was flirting with him. Sweet. "Nah," he waved towards the counter. "I never touch the stuff. It's bad for you."

The woman laughed and shook her head at him. "I guess I'll stick with the tea, then."

He rang it up. "What kind?"

It apparently was her turn to study him. She cocked her head slightly to one side. "Surprise me. Anything but chai."

He took her money and handed over the change. Ronon was heading back behind the counter as John grabbed two of the paper cups and filled the top one with hot water. His fingers hesitated over the teas for a second before picking the mint-flavored one.

He handed the drink over to her and smiled even wider when he saw her stuff all of her change into the tip jar. She lifted the tag from the tea. "Did I look like I needed refreshing?" she asked with a grin.

He shrugged. "Well, not now, but maybe after you have to walk through the snow to wherever you're going."

"Hey I like walking in the snow!" She pulled a couple napkins from the dispenser and then looked at the cup curiously. "This seems really big for a tall."

Ronon turned around and John felt his whole face turn red. He'd grabbed the wrong size cups. He _never_ did that.

Evidently realizing what had happened, she started to reach into her purse for her wallet until he waved her off. "Don't worry about it, really."

"You sure? You won't get into trouble?" She looked genuinely concerned.

He hated being embarrassed so he went on the offensive. "I'll just tell my boss the customer was really hot and it distracted me."

She blushed, then, even while rolling her eyes. "Well, I owe you one."

_And you can come collect any time_, he thought, watching her leave. The bulky winter coat didn't give away much but the legs he could see under her skirt were nearly flawless.

The door closed behind her, Laura came back from her break and Ronon leaned against the counter, staring at John with a smirk.

John just scowled. "Shut up."

He was saved from being teased all day when Teyla arrived with her husband in tow, both of them looking a little pale. Granted, Carson, Teyla's husband, was slightly nervous by nature. He was a doctor, but he worked in medical research, not in an office. How Carson had managed to marry Teyla was one of the mysteries of the universe as far as John was concerned, but they seemed happy together. At least, they usually did, but right now they were both out of it.

Ronon, who could always be relied on to be nosy about these kinds of things, brought them both tea and asked what was up. Teyla glanced from Ronon to Carson to the folder she was carrying. Carson waved a hand helplessly, and Teyla blinked and said one word, "Twins."

***

Bavruk's was the quintessential New York deli. Smack in the middle of one of the residential areas of east side Manhattan, it catered to a small Jewish community and was patronized by the entire rest of the neighborhood for its excellent sandwiches and what John privately thought were the best black and white cookies in the city.

He was trying to hurry through his shopping to get home and get the hell off the streets before the New Year's eve crowds got any worse. He'd been working his butt off since the day after Christmas; it was a good time of year to pick up extra shifts and get some more money since other people wanted to stay home with their families. Well, except Laura who used work as an excuse to not have to be home with her family too much. John was on his own for New Years, as usual, and he had tomorrow off. He was going to curl up on the couch with some DVDs and junk food and sack out until January 2nd.

He grabbed a box of microwave popcorn off the shelf and headed for the register. Trying to be efficient, he attempted to dig his wallet out of his back pocket while holding everything, but his basket was kind of full and the popcorn and some other things tumbled onto the floor. He muttered under his breath and bent to retrieve them.

The woman in line behind him picked up the popcorn and offered it. John would've just taken it with a hurried "thanks" and not really looked up, but he heard a startled "oh" that caught his attention.

"Oh," he repeated. "Hey."

It was his pretty customer from the week before Christmas, with the tea and the great legs. The mere fact that of the thousands of people who passed through the coffee shop he remembered her was slightly unnerving to begin with.

That she remembered him? Seemed almost too good to be true.

"Hi," she said with a shy smile. She was in jeans and a sweater under her coat and wearing a hat. Her cheeks were bright pink, but he assumed that was from the cold more than from bumping into him. "Small world, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess so." The line had moved behind him and she had to nudge him to follow. He glanced at the box of cereal and the container of milk in her arms. "I guess it'd be redundant to ask what you're doing here."

"I was on my way home when I remembered I had nothing to eat for breakfast tomorrow."

"Yeah, I kind of let my grocery shopping fall behind the last couple days." It was his turn at the register and he heaved the basket up onto the counter. His mind was racing, trying to come up with some way to keep the conversation going at least long enough to find out her name when inspiration struck. "Can I have two black and whites, too, please?"

He paid for everything and hefted his bags off to the side, waiting for her. Given how much less she had to buy, it didn't take long.

"So," he said as they went out the door to the jingle of the chimes. "I gather you live in the neighborhood."

She nodded. "Yep, up near the Med Center." She waved in the general direction.

"I'm down near Gramercy."

The pause in the conversation became awkward really fast. He put his bags down and stuck out a hand. "I'm John."

"Elizabeth." She wasn't wearing gloves, but her fingers were warm.

"So, Elizabeth, what're your big plans for New Year's Eve?"

She made a face. "Honestly? I'm planning on crawling under a lot of blankets and sleeping as long as I feel like it. I might not even stay awake to watch the ball drop."

Okay so his mental images of her as a socialite had been wrong. He would've expected she had some fancy party to go to tonight. "It's not the same anymore without the apple," he agreed.

She nodded. "And there are corporate names all over everything in Times Square."

"Yeah, well, everyone knows it's only tourists who go to Times Square on New Year's Eve. Real New Yorkers stay home."

That got him a curious look. "So you're a real New Yorker?"

"Ah, well, not born and bred, no."

"Me either," she said. A large group of party-goers passed them, making a lot of noise and reminding him of the time.

Another even more painfully awkward pause loomed, so he bent down and pulled one of the wrapped black and white cookies out of his bags. "Well, as one non-native but still resident New Yorker to another, allow me to present you with a small token in honor of this evening. It's probably not suitable for breakfast but maybe the sugar can keep you awake until midnight."

Elizabeth laughed, the tension breaking as she accepted the cookie. "You realize, I now owe you twice over."

Knowing a good time to exit when he saw one, John picked up the rest of his groceries. "If I get it to three, does that mean you'll let me take you out sometime?"

She started walking away down the sidewalk, but the grin she threw him made him forget the cold and the slush and the distance between them. "It's a new year, John. Anything's possible."

***

John shook the chill of the January rain off as he ducked back into the store. He was trying desperately to avoid catching the nasty flu bug going around among his coworkers and he had run over to the CVS to get more Vitamin C for himself and orange juice for Teyla. She was at the stage of her pregnancy where she was starting to waddle (though neither John or anyone else would ever say so; they all wanted to live till spring) and since she couldn't really take anything, she was consuming lots of citrus fruits and trying not to breathe near anyone who was sick.

It took him a moment to notice that his favorite customer was back. When he was sure it was Elizabeth, he frowned. She was in line and the guy standing behind her was... well, he was _leaning_. Almost indecently close for a public place.

The dude was old, too. Gray hair, big bulging neck, vaguely military brushcut, nowhere near what he figured was Elizabeth's type. Okay, so he hoped her type was younger, more blue-collar men with perpetually messy hair and a tendency to wear lots of black shirts. Irritation welled up. What was she doing flirting with him if she was seeing someone? Maybe she thought he was just some service employee and so it didn't count?

He was about to walk back behind the counter when Elizabeth spotted him. Actually her eyes nearly bulged out of her head. She called his name so loudly the whole store heard her.

A little puzzled, he still walked over. Elizabeth met him almost halfway, holding out her hand like they were old friends. Then she really shocked the hell out of him by leaning up and kissing his cheek.

As she pulled back, he caught her eyes for a moment. They were wide and almost panicked. She might as well have been screaming "HELP ME!" at the top of her lungs.

The creepy old guy in line, and her body language, suddenly added up in John's head.

"Elizabeth," he called up a smile. "It's good to see you."

"You too," she said. "It's been a while."

The guy in line was glaring at them. John's eyes slid away from him and back to Elizabeth and he took a calculated risk. "Come here, let's get out of the way." He tugged on her hand and they shifted over towards the windows.

She waved to the man in line, "You go on. I'll see you back at the office."

Her fingers squeezed his tightly for a second and John felt a weird surge of protectiveness. "You work with that creep?" he asked quietly enough not to be overheard.

Elizabeth's face remained calm but she groaned. "Yes. He's a friend of my boss."

That had to suck. "So I guess telling him to go to hell is out, then?" he asked, trying to get her to smile.

It worked. "I was thinking more along the lines of a well-placed knee, but I can't do that either," she grumbled.

Her coworker bought his coffee and departed, giving John a contemptuous glance on the way. Meanwhile John avoided the curious and somewhat impatient looks from his coworkers since they were busy and he was dawdling around with a customer.

Elizabeth let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you," she told him seriously when the guy was gone.

"So," John said, bouncing a little on his feet. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but that makes three."

To her credit, Elizabeth didn't play coy or pretend she didn't remember. Her cheeks turned a little pinker. "Yes, I suppose it does."

He just raised his eyebrows and waited. It looked to him like she was trying not to smile, but she reached into her purse and pulled out a business card and a pen. She wrote something on the back of the card and held it out to him. John tried not to look too smug, but he had a feeling he was failing spectacularly.

***

More than once in his life, John had concluded that fate was a vicious monster with a personal vendetta against him.

When he started throwing up the same day he finally got Elizabeth's phone number, he figured that was the final proof.

***

After calling Teyla to say he wouldn't be in to work the next day, John spent the better part of the night shivering and nearly catatonic on the floor of his bathroom, using towels as blankets. Finally around 4am John dragged himself into bed. He was pleasantly surprised when he woke up and it was late morning. A few hours later the doorbell rang insistently and he staggered across the apartment to get it.

It was Laura, arriving with a grocery bag containing Saltine crackers, Campbell's soup and ginger tea. It made sense that she would be the one to show up. Ronon worked some nights as a bouncer so he slept in the afternoons. Chuck had relationship trauma going on and Teyla probably didn't want him within 40 feet of her until he wasn't contagious.

Also Laura was the one who'd introduced this damned bug to the crew last week, so it was only fair.

John made tea by boiling water in a pot, since he didn't own a tea kettle. He sipped the ginger stuff reluctantly. Teyla had sworn by it through her morning sickness but he hated the taste. While his stomach was considering whether to accept or reject the tea, John pulled out his cell phone and Elizabeth's card and called her. He got her voicemail, which made sense since it was the middle of the day and she was probably at work.

He explained that he was sick, promised to call her soon or told her to call him when she had a chance, and hung up not entirely sure he hadn't rambled like an insane person.

He was so tired he fell asleep sitting on the couch.

***

Two days later John finally made it back to work, feeling slightly closer to human. Chuck was now down with what they were calling the 13th plague, and his spot in the shift was being filled by a kid name Aiden who usually worked evenings. Aiden was kind of a dork. John had spent one morning listening to him and Chuck talk about comic books for three hours. But he was fast, and it was kind of funny to watch the kid fall all over himself around Teyla. Even seven months pregnant, Teyla was still hot.

Ronon caught John up on the gossip he'd missed. It seemed that Evan the cop had actually had the plague just before Laura came down with it. Ronon had sussed this out and it wasn't much of a stretch to put those two together. Evan had been hitting on Laura daily since she started working in the store. Laura had in the past claimed she only flirted back for tips, but now she steadfastly ignored all teasing or mentions of New York's finest.

The bigger shock came in the afternoon, not long before John and Ronon were both done with their shift. A pretty blonde came into the store holding a shopping bag. It took John a minute to figure out why she looked familiar, but then Teyla looked up in surprise. "Kate?"

Kate was Teyla's doctor. She'd been in the store a few times. John had flirted with her on more than one occasion, but it hadn't gone beyond that. He'd had a feeling he wasn't Kate's type.

And now he had a feeling Kate was uncomfortable about something. She ordered a small mocha latte which Laura rang up, but her eyes kept going to Ronon. Teyla was chatting happily about the twins and the arrangements with the midwife for the birth, but then her phone buzzed and she excused herself.

John pretended to be engrossed in his reading, but he watched out of the corner of his eye as Kate sidled over to Ronon and whispered something that sounded like "You left this" and handed him the shopping bag.

Ronon shoved the bag under the counter and out of sight as Teyla came back. John waited until Kate and Teyla were over by the windows and sauntered close enough to poke the bag with his foot.

Clothes. Ronon's clothes, apparently.

John looked up to find the big guy giving him a "Speak and you will meet death" look. John just smirked. It looked like Laura wasn't the only one getting some action these days.

***

John waited to call Elizabeth again until Saturday afternoon, and got her voicemail once more. The second message sounded, at least in his head, even more meandering and crazy than the first one had. He was just afraid of her getting the wrong idea or thinking he'd just been messing with her and never intended to call.

She didn't call him back.

And even though John watched carefully all day Monday and Tuesday, she didn't come into the store.

Tuesday evening he debated with himself for about an hour. Three unanswered phone calls was the respectable limit before you hit lunatic stalker territory. But he'd left two messages in nearly a week and she hadn't even attempted to call him. Sure there might be a good reason, but still. Maybe the whole thing with getting her number had been a mistake. Maybe she felt pressured into giving it to him.

Or, you know, maybe a pack of flying monkeys had invaded her apartment and was holding her hostage.

John groaned and hit "Send" before he could waffle anymore.

On the third ring, he heard a very weak, rough voice say, "Hello?"

"Elizabeth?" There was a grunt that might have been a yes. "It's John." She didn't say anything for a second. "From the coffee shop?"

"Oh, hi," was all she got out before she started to cough heavily.

God, _she_ was sick now. The universe really seemed to have it in for them, he thought ruefully.

"Hi," she said again when she could talk. "I'm sorry I haven't called you back."

"Well I gather it's because you're sick as a dog?"

Her sigh was audible. "You could say that. I had to work late Friday and then go to a dinner party Saturday night and by the time I got home I had this awful fever and I realized I was coming down with the damn flu."

Given what he'd just gone through, John winced in sympathy. "Are you sick to your stomach or-?"

"No, it's just a regular kind of flu." She sniffled loudly. "Which isn't exactly a fun day at the beach either."

"No," he agreed. Elizabeth detailed some of her symptoms in the way sick or recently sick people seemed compelled to do. Then she sighed again. "I was just about to drag myself down to the market and pick up some things."

For reasons he didn't precisely understand, or maybe because she sounded really weak even over the phone, John offered, "No, Elizabeth, why don't you let me do that?"

"Oh, that's okay. I can manage to walk a few blocks, really."

"I don't mind," he told her. He was already grabbing his coat.

"I'm sure you have better things to do than deliver my groceries, John. I don't want you to feel like you need to..." she trailed off and he could guess what she was thinking. He decided to ignore it and grabbed his keys and a pen and paper.

"As it happens, I was planning on watching tv for a while and going to bed, so no, I don't actually have anything better to do. I can run to the store and drop some stuff off for you." There was a pause and he could practically feel Elizabeth weighing her options. "Look, one of my coworkers brought some stuff over for me while I was sick. This is just... what was that movie? Pay it forward. That's what I'm doing. Okay?"

"Well," she said, sounding half-reluctant and half-relieved. "I guess."

"All right, then. Tell me what you need and where to go."

***

Forty-five minutes later John rode the elevator up to Elizabeth's apartment. He had a brown bag full of the things she had asked for and several things she hadn't.

Elizabeth opened the door with a smile on her face, although at second glance he noticed she really did look pretty wrecked. Her nose and her eyes were red and although she was flushed from the fever she looked pale too. Wearing a heavy sweatshirt and sweatpants, her hair was messy and she had that slightly wobbly look of someone who hadn't slept very well or very much recently.

"Here you go," he said, putting the bag down on the kitchen table. Her apartment was about twice the size of the upended cracker box John lived in, but that wasn't saying much. "Soup, tea, Saltines – those are from the box my friend gave me, by the way." He handed each item over as he pulled them from the bag. "Goldfish crackers, because you can't eat soup properly without them." Elizabeth laughed a little. He fished the other things out. "I got juice boxes because I didn't know what kind you like. And I brought you Oreos and People magazine, because when you have a fever that's about all the brain can handle."

She took the magazine with a roll of her eyes. "I don't think I've ever paid for a copy of this, you know? I've read it in places like doctor's offices out of desperation."

"Why, you don't feel a burning need to follow the melodrama of the private lives of celebrities with too much money and no talent?" he snorted.

Elizabeth put the juice away in the fridge and reached for her wallet. "How much do I owe you?"

He waved her off. "Don't worry about it."

"John," she said sternly. "I'm not going to let you pay for my groceries."

"Hey, I offered to do it. I don't mind."

"But it's not fair," she protested. "It was nice of you to carry everything up here but..."

He could tell she was about to point out that she was capable of paying for her own things. It struck him that she really had an allergy to looking needy, and what happened in the coffee shop the other day probably hadn't helped. He just said her name quietly. She stared at him, uncertain. He hoped she would get what he was trying to tell her. "It's no big deal, really."

They stood there for a minute in silence, just looking at each other. Then she looked away, putting the twenty she'd pulled from her wallet back. "If it really bothers you," he added with a grin, "I'm sure I'll think of some way for you to make it up to me."

She rolled her eyes. "So typical." But she smiled at him when she said it.

***

On weeknights, O'Neill's made its money on the happy hour crowd from the local offices. Over the weekends it reverted to more of a neighborhood place. John liked it because the beer was good, there was always a game on the big television, and watching Jack and his partner Daniel (and weren't there plenty of jokes about that name combination for two guys who owned a bar) bicker like an old married couple was always good for a laugh.

Elizabeth had requested they do something "very low key" for their first official date because she was still really tired from being sick, and John figured O'Neill's was about as low key as you could get and still count as going out somewhere. It was a bitterly cold, clear Saturday night and the bar was sparsely populated by regulars, most of them sitting in booths and eating.

When Elizabeth came in Jack and Daniel were both behind the bar. They looked up, saw Elizabeth and both of them paused to look her over and watch as she caught sight of John and approached him.

John mock-glared at the two of them and got to his feet, because somewhere in the back of his head his grandmother's voice reminded him that a gentleman always stands up to greet a lady.

Elizabeth looked better, although he instantly noticed that she appeared tired and a little too thin for his taste. She was wearing jeans and a red shirt that wrapped around her body nicely, though. They settled into a booth while Elizabeth looked around curiously.

For a bar owned by two openly gay men in New York, the place had far more of an Irish pub feel than anything else. The booths were dark wood and had high walls for privacy. There were artifacts all over the walls, lots of them Celtic, along with star charts mixed in and a poster of the Earth rising over the moon. Hanging over their table was a framed copy of the image of Armstrong standing next to the flag on the moon's surface.

Elizabeth glanced at it and grinned. "Is it awful that I see that image now and I think of MTV?"

John smiled and sang the guitar riff from the old promo.

Their laughter was interrupted by Jack bringing the menus and saying, "Sheppard, your taste in company seems to have taken a big step up."

"You mean since I usually come in here alone?" John retorted, his mouth acting before his brain could catch up. When it dawned on him what he'd said, his ears got hot with embarrassment.

Elizabeth quirked an eyebrow at him. Jack shook his head and looked down at John with amusement, "Nice."

Jack introduced himself to Elizabeth, clapped his hands together and muttered "Good luck" to John and departed. Elizabeth folded her arms on the table and leaned forward expectantly.

"Look, I didn't mean that..." he tried. Swallowing he started over. "I wasn't saying that you being here wasn't a huge improvement-" Groaning he put his head in his hands. "Can I get the last two minutes of my life back please?"

He peeked through his fingers. Elizabeth looked like she was trying not to openly laugh. She poked his foot with her boot. "Too bad that big hole in the ground never opens up and swallows you when you want it to, huh?"

"Yes," he sighed.

She gave him a quick warning look and then, thankfully, moved on to talking about the menu.

They nibbled on pretzels while waiting for the food. Elizabeth won Jack and Daniel's everlasting respect by ordering a Guiness, AKA "the beer you drink with a spoon," according to Daniel. She also recognized a bunch of the stuff on the walls. It turned out she loved astronomy and wanted to be an astronaut when she was a kid.

John found that out along with the basics of her life story in the next couple of hours. She skimmed over some stuff, shifting off things she clearly didn't want to talk about. John didn't argue. There were plenty of parts of his own life he wasn't eager to discuss in detail.

When the check came, Elizabeth snatched it before he could reach. "Elizabeth, you don't have to-" he started to protest.

"Nuh-uh," she said determinedly. "The grocery thing was above and beyond the call. The least I can do is pay for a hamburger."

Something about the set of her jaw told him arguing with her would be pointless. It didn't sit well with him, whether from ingrained habit or his grandmother's rules of etiquette. He didn't want Elizabeth thinking he couldn't pay his own way or anything. He leaned back in his seat, "Okay, but next time we split the bill, all right?"

The flirtatious smirk on her face made his stomach drop unexpectedly. "Next time?" she asked archly.

He stammered slightly before she grinned and got up. John automatically stood to help her with her coat, shaking his head at himself. _"Good one, John, falling for this one. She's got you so tangled up in your own head you can't see straight."_

They went out into the cold night together. Elizabeth wrapped her scarf around her neck and didn't object when John walked her home. It was too chilly to do much but walk fast and try to stay warm. When they reached her building he followed into the vestibule. Elizabeth hesitated and he could read her body language enough to know he should say goodnight here, as he wasn't getting invited upstairs. Not tonight, anyway.

"So, about that next time?" he asked, leaning against the wall, going for nonchalant and probably coming out between desperate and eager.

She smiled, ducking her head a little. "Well, I'm pretty sure you know my number by now," she shot back.

"I'll call you tomorrow?" he said, moving a little closer. She didn't pull away and his stomach flip-flopped again.

Elizabeth nodded, but her eyes were on his mouth, and John closed the space between them and kissed her.

He'd been thinking about this – among other things – since the day she flirted with him in the coffee shop. The Manhattan street noise and the smell and the cold all faded away from his mind. He couldn't think past the feel of her lips on his, the slightly bitter taste from the beer and the warmth of her skin under his fingers when he cupped her cheek gently.

The first kiss ended and he managed to open his eyes long enough to register that Elizabeth looked just as stunned as he felt. His other hand framed her face and he kissed her again, tilting his head to get a better angle and reveling in the low noise she made as she moved with him.

Another tiny pause happened before kisses three and four followed. Elizabeth physically stepped back and John's mind was so gone he reached for her blindly, because it was wrong that she was even that far away from him for a second. He pulled her back in by the scarf that had fallen from her neck and her lips parted against his and he couldn't resist the chance to deepen the kiss and taste her.

He finally came back to his senses with Elizabeth's hands fisted in the lapel of his jacket, simultaneously holding on and holding him off. He tore his eyes away from her lips and the way she was breathing heavily to look at her.

She stared at him and then licked her lips and John whimpered internally. "Wow," she muttered and he huffed out a laugh.

She did as well, then she let go of his coat and John untangled his hands from her scarf and let her pull away completely. He missed the warmth of her immediately, but he clamped down on his hormones and took a slow, deep breath.

"Okay," Elizabeth said slowly, sliding backwards out of reach, still looking slightly overwhelmed. "Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow," he nodded and watched her go through the security door and get into the elevator, before pushing off from the wall and going back out into the cold.

*~*~*~*

John was perilously close to freaking out when he realized that the plans he and Elizabeth had made for their second date fell on Saturday, February 14th. He hadn't realized it at the time and he had no idea what Elizabeth was expecting. A second date on Valentine's Day seemed like way too much pressure.

His coworkers weren't helping.

"Bring her flowers. That's a must," Laura advised him while they were in a momentary lull on Tuesday morning.

"So Lorne's going to show up in his uniform with roses for you?" Ronon teased her.

Laura stuck her tongue out at him and then smirked. "If he's lucky he'll get breakfast in bed, actually." John groaned. He really hadn't needed to know that.

Chuck, who had broken up with his girlfriend for the third or fourth time, sulked at them all and told John morosely, "Dump her before she dumps you."

The three of them stayed away from the topic for the rest of the morning. John checked in with Teyla before he left for the day. His gentlemanly streak had turned downright chivalrous when he found out she was pregnant (though Ronon was worse). Now, though, everyone was especially solicitous about the twins.

"Hey, can I get anything for you? Or Thing 1 and Thing 2?"

Teyla glared at him. She was never, ever going to forgive him for starting to call the twins that, especially since everyone else in the store was doing it too. He'd pointed out that once she and Carson picked some names, everyone else could stop using the Dr. Seuss references, but that hadn't seemed to make her any less annoyed. Jonas, who was meeting with her, looked amused. Jonas was the assistant manager and he was going to take over temporarily while Teyla was on maternity leave.

"We're all fine, thank you," Teyla said with killing politeness. John held up his hands in mock surrender. Teyla evidently decided it was time for some payback. "So did you decided what to do for your girlfriend for Saturday?"

John flinched a bit at the g-word. "No," he muttered. Trust Teyla to needle him about his commitment issues in response to some harmless teasing.

"A word of advice? Don't be predictable. Roses, chocolates, dinner at a nice restaurant, everyone does those things on Valentine's Day. Figure out something she would really like instead of doing the obvious."

"Yes, ma'am," John drawled, mostly because it would annoy her, although he had to admit she had a point. "What did you and Carson do on Valentine's Day last year?"

Her expression morphed into a smirk that told him way more than he wanted to know. "Never mind! Forget I asked!" he said, backpedaling out of the office as fast as he could, hearing Teyla laughing as he went.

Ronon really owed him for keeping quiet about him and Kate. John figured at some point, he was going to rat his buddy out, probably the next time Teyla was mad at him about something and John needed a distraction.

So. Now all he had to do was figure out something Elizabeth would really like. Based on a couple of weeks of knowing her.

Crap. He was so screwed.

*~*~*~*

Elizabeth called him on Friday evening and confessed she was having a shameful craving for fast food. Her week had been another long one of meetings and dealing with her boss, Ellis, and all the work the bastard was pushing onto her while he went out for two-hour lunch meetings. The previous Sunday on the phone John had listened to a long rant on the subject of her boss and her job, at least until Elizabeth realized what she was doing and apologized for hijacking the conversation.

John ended up meeting her at the McDonald's on 23rd Street for dinner. He was rather amused to watch this normally polished, professional woman sitting in faded jeans and an enormous fleece pullover, sucking her milkshake loudly through her straw and eating French Fries.

He'd been thinking all week about Teyla's advice and frantically reviewing what he'd learned about Elizabeth so far. He had an idea for Saturday night but he wondered if he could maybe get some sign from Elizabeth about what she wanted. "So, tomorrow is Valentine's Day."

Elizabeth nodded and swallowed a mouthful of fries and ketchup. "That's true."

John rubbed his palms on his jeans. "I, uh, wasn't sure what you wanted to do. If you wanted to, you know, go to a restaurant or something."

"I don't know. I tend to think Valentine's Day is mostly a made up holiday so people can sell cards and flowers."

"So, no flowers then?" he quipped.

She rolled her eyes. "Not necessary, no. Though if you show up without _any_ chocolate I'm shutting the door in your face."

"I wouldn't think of it."

Elizabeth thought for a second. "I'm just... I feel kind of restless, you know? Tired of doing the same thing all the time."

That feeling he could relate to. He'd made his choices and there were a lot of things about his life that John was perfectly happy with, but sometimes, he found himself imagining doing something completely out of the blue and crazy. Moving to Hawaii and spending all his time surfing, or buying a motorcycle and going cross-country. Something to get out of the mostly-comfortable rut he was in.

Taking Elizabeth out somewhere unusual, however, would hopefully be a lot less difficult to accomplish. "Well, I'll pick you up at 6."

She raised an eyebrow. "And where will we be going?"

"Nope, not tellin'."

"John," she whined.

"It's a surprise." He reached over to steal some of her fries and got his hand smacked.

"You have to give me a hint so I know what to wear."

He made a show of thinking about it and then relented. "Dress warm. Layers would be good."

"No heels?" she asked wryly.

"Probably not wise."

"But you won't tell me where we're going that I need to dress in warm layers and wear comfortable shoes?" She hit him with this pouty expression that made him swallow hard, but he stuck to his resolve.

"You can wait 24 hours," he told her.


	2. Lost In New York (2/2)

It was snowing on and off Saturday evening as they emerged from the 72 St. subway station on Central Park West. John held Elizabeth's hand on the pretext of not getting separated, even though the crowds weren't all that bad.

He'd shown up at her door with a bag of Dove chocolate hearts with a big bow on it. Apparently that had been sufficient to satisfy her requirements. Now she raised an eyebrow at him. "Tell me you're not planning a picnic in Central Park in the middle of February."

"Have some faith," he told her, tugging her hand as they walked north. It was only about five blocks to reach their destination. John started up the steps when he realized Elizabeth had stopped at the bottom of the stairs. He looked back at her, his stomach sinking. "Something wrong?"

"We're going to the planetarium?"

"Well, not just the planetarium," he admitted. "There's something else."

She smiled at him, which he figured was a good sign, and followed him. "I haven't been to a planetarium since I was a kid."

They wandered around the exhibits for a little while, then went upstairs. If Elizabeth had figured out his plan, she didn't give any real sign until they came out of the lobby across from the skating rink. The smell of coffee and hot chocolate from the café was strong, and outside the rink was sparkling in the lights from the trees and the sculpture of the polar bear in the center.

"Oh, John," Elizabeth breathed, squeezing his hand. "This is beautiful." She glanced at him and something about the way she just looked at him, with so much emotion on her face, made him squirm.

"I'm glad you like it," he told her awkwardly. "I bought the tickets already. Do you want to skate first or eat first?"

She laughed. "Probably skate first and see if we live through that."

He groaned. "Don't tell me you've never skated before? I thought you grew up in upstate and had to use ice skates to get to school."

She smacked his arm for that one. "I used to skate, but it's been years."

He handed over the tickets and they got their skates on, putting their shoes in the lockers. Both of them wobbled a bit getting out onto the ice. It had been a while since John had done this either, so they both stuck near the wall at first. He got his feet under him first, though, and after a few practice laps he came back to Elizabeth and chuckled. She was still holding nervously onto the wall.

Carefully, he turned around, skating backwards, and held out his hands. "Here, come on." Elizabeth hesitated and he licked his lips. "It's okay. I won't let you fall."

Her eyes met his and for a second he felt a little like he'd just received an electric shock, like his words had meant something more than just offering to help her skate.

The moment passed and Elizabeth grabbed hold of his hands tightly. He moved slowly, gliding backwards as Elizabeth found her balance. They were both laughing as she struggled not to fall a couple of times, but gradually she gained confidence and was able to let go and move on her own.

He felt more at ease and didn't object when Elizabeth reached for his hand, not for balance, while she looked up at the sky. It had stopped snowing for the moment and a space had opened up in the clouds. He could see the moon up above them, and the glowing light from the Rose Center was in front of them.

He looked over at Elizabeth. Her face was red from exertion and her nose was bright pink from the cold. On impulse, he tugged her hand and drew her over to the polar bear until they both came to a stop. She raised her eyebrows at him. John leaned in and kissed her.

Her lips were warm and her mouth warmer, and John's arm slid around her waist without conscious thought, pulling her close as Elizabeth returned his kiss enthusiastically. Even through their coats and sweaters he could feel the shape of her body. It made him wish desperately that they weren't in the middle of a public place.

There was a sound, signaling the end of their hour. John pulled away reluctantly. "Happy Valentine's day, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth smiled. "Thank you for this, John. It was perfect."

He brushed another kiss against her lips, then they started for the door. The rink was getting more crowded as other people clearly had the same idea for a romantic evening on Valentine's Day. Elizabeth grinned. "I don't know about you, but I've worked up a bit of an appetite."

John stumbled, barely recovering before he fell. He had a feeling Elizabeth knew exactly how he'd initially interpreted that statement, but she just smirked at him and sat down to take off her skates. "Pizza at 'your' place?"

He'd admitted to Elizabeth he'd never gone to John's, the famous pizzeria in Times Square, and she'd been teasing him about it ever since. He sighed in mock defeat. "Do I get free dessert for having the same name?"

She patted his shoulder. "We can always ask."

*~*~*~*

By Wednesday John felt like he was going crazy. He'd spoken to Elizabeth every day on the phone but a phone conversation just wasn't the same as being with her. He felt antsy, like he'd had too much caffeine, but this was at least more pleasant than that feeling.

He blamed the tension for what happened that morning.

Teyla had come in from a doctor's appointment, grinning a bit to herself. "What's up?" he asked her.

Teyla pulled a bottle of grape juice out of the fridge in the employee room. "I think Kate's seeing someone."

John raised his eyebrows, working to keep the rest of his expression guileless. "Oh?"

"She wouldn't give me details, but she had a mark on her neck this morning. She was wearing a turtleneck but she pulled it down for a second and I saw it."

"Huh," he said. His brain had drifted to Elizabeth and the soft skin on her throat and the sound she made when he kissed her there, something he'd learned last weekend. And really wanted to do again.

Which was why he blurted out without thinking, "Ronon's got a mark on his neck this morning, too, you know."

Teyla's eyes went wide and John froze. He'd _promised_ Ronon he wouldn't tell Teyla anything. Kate apparently was worried Teyla wouldn't appreciate her doctor dating one of her employees, or at least that was why she'd asked Ronon to keep quiet. Not that Ronon was prone to blabbing about his sex life. Or anything, really.

Teyla looked suspicious. John bolted for the counter with a mumbled excuse. She followed him to the door and stood there, scrutinizing Ronon, who was bearing a red mark on his neck clearly left by someone and in no way hidden by his t-shirt.

Ronon raised his eyebrows at Teyla and then glanced at John. Despite his efforts to look innocent, his face must've given something away because Ronon glared. John cringed and went to help the next customer, wondering idly if Elizabeth would run off to Mexico with him if he had to get away from Ronon.

*~*~*~*

In spite of repeated warnings and a couple hand-slaps, John sidled up behind Elizabeth, slipping his arms around her waist and nuzzling her neck. She was attempting to cook dinner for them. He could admit he wasn't being precisely helpful, constantly kissing her or touching her – often inappropriately – while she was handling hot items and food. He couldn't seem to help himself. He hadn't seen her since the previous Sunday when they went to see an old Marx brothers movie at a revival theater in Greenwich Village. Elizabeth had been busy all week, too busy, she said, even to meet at a McDonald's again.

Three weeks of dating and he felt like he'd been in withdrawal not seeing her for five days. And they hadn't even slept together. Yet.

Elizabeth was keeping her eyes fixed on the tomato concoction on the stove. John brushed the curls of hair away from her neck and trailed kisses up the delicate curve, as softly as he could stand. She shivered all over and he knew he was smirking but he couldn't help it.

He nibbled on her earlobe and she simultaneously tilted her head for him and grumbled. "Do you want to eat dinner or not?"

For a second he almost blurted out the truth. He _didn't_ care about dinner. He didn't care about anything but spinning her around and kissing her until she was ready to faint. Part of his brain was already calculating the height of the kitchen counter and whether it was low enough to work.

Fortunately, the horny teenager in him subsided after a second and he squeezed her a little tighter before letting go. "Sorry. A week of deprivation makes me a little crazy."

That got him a sympathetic look. "Do you know the last time I cooked for a guy? You've seen my collection of take-out menus."

"I brought dessert!" he protested, although not seriously.

With a roll of her eyes she nodded to the other pot on the stove. "Drain the rice and put it in that bowl, will you?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Elizabeth poured the beef and sauce combo onto the rice and they sat down at her tiny kitchen table, which was set for two and had a candle burning in the middle. Her apartment actually looked out over the street and the table was just underneath the window, so they people watched as they ate.

Even if he'd been lying, John knew enough to praise Elizabeth's cooking. Thankfully, he didn't have to lie in this case. "Mmm, this is great."

She poked at her plate for a second. "Not too much onion?"

He shook his head and they ate in relaxed quiet, observing the comings and goings across the street. A woman appeared to be having a rather intense phone conversation in the building across from Elizabeth's. She kept pacing back and forth with the phone in one hand.

In the midst of spinning out theories on what the woman was talking about, John suddenly felt Elizabeth's fingers on his cheek.

"You have some sauce, there," she told him, wiping at the corner of his mouth.

Before he could stop himself, John turned and kissed her thumb. He felt it drag against his lower lip for a moment before Elizabeth recollected herself enough to move away. Her cheeks had gotten a little pinker and John shifted in his seat slightly.

They ate one of the two slices of cake he'd brought from the Italian bakery and he body-checked her when she tried to gather the dishes. "Nuh-uh, the cook doesn't clean up." He took her plate away before she could argue.

He got everything clean but the frying pan, which needed to soak a while. When he moved out of the alcove that housed the kitchen, Elizabeth was at the other window and listening to Sam Cooke on her stereo. Something about her posture seemed stiff. She'd been acting slightly off all night. He figured she was tired, which meant he needed to be realistic about the prospect of spending the night.

Sternly telling himself that he was an adult capable of self-control, John again moved behind her and held her, keeping his hands safely around her waist. He stretched forward to kiss her cheek. "Thank you for dinner."

"You're welcome."

They stood there in silence for a few minutes, until John thought he needed to distract himself before his hands and lips started wandering again. The song changed to something slightly more upbeat and he put a hand over hers. "You want to dance?"

She looked a little surprised. "Here?"

"Better here than in public," he shrugged.

Elizabeth laughed, something she didn't do often enough for his taste. They stood in the small cleared space between her couch and her television and he held her close, one arm around her waist. His other hand held hers up as they started to sway together. Her eyes lifted from their feet to his face and on instinct, he pressed her hand against his heart and covered it with his own.

It was nice, really, just getting to hold her, feel her nearby. He could smell her shampoo as Elizabeth leaned into him. But he wanted so much more. And he could feel the way she was retreating every time things got even a little out of control between them. He wouldn't have been able to live with himself if he forced her into anything, but at the same time, his willpower was starting to erode.

Elizabeth stretched up and kissed him and John's mind wanted to slip off the leash again. Her couch was just behind them. Her bedroom was only a few steps away. He couldn't keep his arm from tugging her even closer, couldn't keep himself from deepening the kiss. When Elizabeth moaned against his mouth he snapped. He stopped moving, burying both hands in her hair and devouring her, hoping like hell she would understand what he was trying to tell her.

When she tried to pull away he resisted for a minute. He didn't know if it was the short amount of time they'd been dating or something about Elizabeth herself, but he didn't remember ever wanting anyone this much in his life.

His sanity managed to reassert itself and he let her draw back. She was breathing hard, too, and her lips were red and his hands clenched involuntarily with the urge to drag her back to him.

"John, I-" she stopped, her fingers going to her lips.

Something in him coiled in fear.

"Elizabeth, I'm sorry. I'm not trying to push you or anything-"

"No," she shook her head. "It's not... that's not it, John. Really." He must have looked dubious because she put a hand on his arm. "You didn't do anything wrong. It's me." Generally he really hated that speech, but she drew a deep breath. "There's something I have to tell you."

A hundred things swept through his mind, ranging from bad to horrible. But he was completely blindsided by her next words.

"I've been offered a job in D.C."

***

John sat on the couch, staring at his shoes while Elizabeth explained that she'd been offered a job by an old colleague, working down in D.C. at either the State department or some group that worked with the State department. He couldn't really process what she was saying. His stomach was tying itself in knots and the only thing he could really think was "She's leaving" over and over.

He knew Elizabeth was unhappy about her job. Ever since that creepy guy's friend, Ellis, had been appointed as her boss she'd been miserable at work and feeling like she wasn't getting anything done. He'd listened while she lamented that she didn't know what she was doing with her life, or where she really wanted to be.

It had never occurred to him that Elizabeth would have to leave New York to find the answers. Especially not _now_.

"John?" She was looking at him nervously, her fingers twisted so hard they were white.

"Are you going to take it?" he asked numbly.

She didn't say anything right away, but he could see it in her face.

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her, "I don't want you to go" but he bit down on his lip. He had no right to say that to her, to try and guilt her into anything. It was her life and he had no business interfering. Elizabeth needed to do what was best for her.

He stood up abruptly. "So, when do you leave?"

Elizabeth looked slightly taken aback by that. "I haven't actually said yes yet, but they want me to start at the beginning of next month if possible. But I'd have to give notice and cancel my lease. Plus finding a new place and all."

He nodded, rubbing his palms absently on his jeans. "Not much time. Though I guess you'll probably want to get away from Ellis as soon as possible." He tried to smile, but it felt more like a grimace. "Well, it's probably a good thing this happened now."

She frowned at him. "Why?"

He shrugged, waving a hand between them awkwardly. "You know. I mean, at least now we both know. Before anything got, you know... Before this turned into something-" He cut himself off there, hearing the anger and the bitterness in his own voice and clenching his fists to stop the swelling frustration inside of him from exploding.

Elizabeth paled and a hurt look crossed her face. John had to physically turn away from her as guilt assailed him. He moved towards the door, unable to think about anything but getting out of there and away from her as fast as possible. By the time he'd put on his coat, Elizabeth had folded her arms across herself and her face was distant and cold.

That was almost worse.

"Thanks for dinner," he managed to get out. "It was a lot nicer than most of the evenings where women have broken up with me." _Jesus, get the hell out of here, John_ he thought to himself. _Before you say anything else and make it even worse._

Elizabeth's voice broke, "John, I-" She stopped at the look on his face.

"Take care of yourself, Elizabeth."

John opened the door and used the last of his pride not to bolt down the hall. But when he got into the elevator and the doors slid closed in front of him, he balled a hand into a fist and pounded on the door sharply once before stumbling backwards against the back wall.

"Shit," he muttered, rubbing his face with his hands.

***

Elizabeth didn't call him. She didn't come into the coffee shop. Even though John's heart jumped into his throat every time he saw a customer with dark curly hair, she never appeared. He spotted a girl on the subway one evening who looked a lot like her and immediately his palms got clammy. After he got a closer look he realized it wasn't her, and he spent the rest of the train ride and the walk home glowering, wondering if he was going to spend the rest of his damn life being haunted by Elizabeth's ghost through the streets of the city.

He counted down the days in his head, calculating how likely it was she was gone.

He started to call her about 874 times. He never managed to get far enough for her to pick up the phone, because he kept choking on what to say, how to start apologizing for being a stupid ass, how to find a way to tell her not to go without sounding like he was telling her how to live her own life. He'd had enough of that himself and he swore a long time ago he'd never do that to another person.

It was a Wednesday morning, the first day it really felt like spring. The air was warm and there was a breeze blowing fresh air across Manhattan. The customers were all obnoxiously cheerful, which just grated on John's mood.

His coworkers weren't helping. Laura had come in a couple weeks ago after her birthday and announced that she was moving in with Evan. And Teyla had given her unofficial blessing to Ronon dating her OB/GYN. Chuck and his girlfriend had gotten back together yet again.

John felt like the whole world hated him. Everyone had been giving him a wide berth for weeks. Even Ronon was looking leery of John's temper these days. He knew he was being a jerk, but it felt like he was almost powerless to make it stop.

Teyla was going on maternity leave in a few more days, and none too soon judging by the size of her stomach. Carson was hovering, bringing her to work and then taking her home every day and calling repeatedly to check in on her and the twins. Laura was running a pool on the babies' weights, length and names. Teyla hadn't been terribly amused by John's suggestion of naming them Siegfried and Roy, though he personally thought that was better than Chuck's proposal of Leopold and Loeb.

She waddled out from her office near the end of his shift, one hand on her back, and handed him a white envelope. "John, someone left this for you yesterday."

He frowned. "When?"

Teyla shot him a look. "It didn't come UPS. It was late in the day."

His name was written on the front, and he had a feeling he knew the handwriting. He ripped the envelope open and pulled out a folded sheet of plain white paper. Something else fell out, a smaller slip of heavy paper.

It was an Amtrak ticket. Round-trip from New York to Washington and back.

John swallowed hard.

The note inside was short, but it made his heart race.

_"John –_

_I'm leaving Friday morning for D.C. In the spirit of not letting opportunities pass me by any more, I want to ask you something._

_If you really think that we hadn't "started something" already, then just tear the ticket up._

_But if you were just being a jackass, come with me Friday. It's not a permanent invitation, just for the weekend. So we can talk and figure out what we're going to do._

_You're the only part of New York I don't want to lose. Please._

_Elizabeth._

John reread the letter four times, until he realized Teyla and everyone else were all staring at him expectantly. He looked at Teyla, who was rubbing her lower back. She had a knowing look on her face. "Elizabeth asked you to go with her?"

He nodded slowly. "Just for this weekend. So we can... talk."

He couldn't wrap his mind around this. He'd been such an asshole to her and Elizabeth still wanted to be with him? So much that she bought him a train ticket? He read the first paragraph of the letter again. "Not letting opportunities pass me by any more." Was that what he did? Just let everything slide past him? Anything not to upset his routine. Never letting anyone get too close, never letting anything really matter all that much. Because it hurt less that way when it all, inevitably, fell apart.

Except in this case, maybe it hadn't. He'd been too busy sulking to give Elizabeth a chance to tell him what she wanted.

"Go."

He blinked. "What?"

Teyla smiled, although it looked a little strained. "Go with her, John. What have you got to lose?"

A lot, he wanted to tell her, thinking of how painful the last few weeks had been. But underneath that, he felt a surge of hope, the first time he'd felt anything but miserable since Elizabeth had told him the news. He was distracted by the grimace on Teyla's face.

"Um, boss?" Laura asked uncertainly, looking at the floor. There was something wet under Teyla's sneakers.

"Oh shit," Teyla muttered.

"You're in _labor_?" John yelped, wanting to back up but afraid Teyla might faint or something.

Teyla waved a hand. "I've been having contractions since the middle of the night, but they've been pretty far apart."

John gaped at her. Who went into labor and got up and came to work?

All hell broke loose after that. Teyla called Carson, whose response was a lot like John's but much louder, even over the cell phone. Ronon called Kate before Teyla could get to it. Teyla then called Jonas and told him he had to get to work early, while John and Ronon hovered nervously around Teyla, who kept delaying her departure to give one last piece of instruction to them, until Ronon finally strong-armed her to the door. "Will you go have these kids already?" he grumbled, although he looked thoroughly freaked out underneath it.

"Okay, okay, I'm going. And John, remember what I said!"

"Teyla, don't worry about that now. Just take care of yourself. We'll take care of everything here."

Teyla pointed at John. "Oh, no you don't! Don't use this as an excuse to chicken out. Go! Use that ticket!"

Laura grabbed Teyla's elbow and got her into a cab while the patrons in the coffee shop chattered excitedly. John shared a look with Ronon. Teyla was a force of nature, no doubt about it.

***

He didn't sleep that night. He tried a few times, but finally gave up, staring out the tiny window of his apartment while it poured buckets for several hours. The rain finally ended near dawn and John watched the sky clear and lighten outside.

Elizabeth's letter and the train ticket were sitting on his kitchen table.

***

Flooding in the 28th Street station meant John was late getting to the Herald Square subway stop. He rushed through the crowds, hurrying down the connections to Penn Station. He hadn't been here in a while and he had to hunt to find the right tracks for the 141 to Union Station in D.C. It was 9:28 when he finally reached the platform, and the train was due to leave at 9:35.

He ducked and wove through the people, panting, thinking that by now Elizabeth was going to have assumed he wasn't going to show and gotten on the train already. Logically, of course, he could just get on the train and find her but whether from the delays or the sleeplessness or the bone-deep, relentless drumbeat of unhappiness he'd been living with constantly since that night in Elizabeth's apartment, he felt like he _had_ to find Elizabeth before she got on the train without him. All the panic he'd been feeling for weeks seemed to have seized him completely.

But he couldn't see her anywhere. His heart was sinking when he heard a familiar voice.

"John?"

A crowd of tourists moved out of his way and he saw Elizabeth, standing with her suitcase and a bag near the door to the waiting train.

John didn't stop moving. In fact, he sped up, until he was running right towards her. But Elizabeth was moving too, and he stopped short just in time to catch her in his arms and lift her up off her feet. He buried his face in her neck, breathing her in, feeling relief flood through him as her arms wrapped around his neck and she held on to him tightly.

People were gawking around them and John set her down and loosened his hold enough that he could look into her face. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay-" she started but he shook his head.

"No, it's not, and I'm probably going to be apologizing until at least Philadelphia if not longer, but-" He framed her face with his hands. "I don't want to lose you either."

Some woman nearby audibly "awwed" at that, but Elizabeth smiled and leaned up and kissed him and John couldn't have cared less about their audience or anything else in the world.

They made the train but just barely, to the great amusement of the porters.

***

EPILOGUE

 

The train was chugging through New Jersey when John's cell phone rang. He reluctantly let go of Elizabeth's hand to answer it. She watched curiously as he grinned through the conversation and then closed the phone back up. "Teyla had the twins," he told her.

Elizabeth's eyes widened. "She was in labor?"

He nodded, telling her the story of how he'd gotten her letter at work and about Teyla telling him to go to D.C. anyway.

"The babies are okay?"

"Slightly early but Laura said everything's fine. Well, Teyla kicked Carson in the groin at one point, apparently, but the kids are okay."

Elizabeth smiled, leaning her head on his shoulder. "What are the names?"

"Nick and Nora."

"Oh, like from the _Thin Man_ movies?"

"Yep," John sighed. "Ronon's going to be hell to live with. He won the pool."

"Maybe you can claim he had inside help?"

"Hunh, that's right. If Kate tipped him off..."

"Definitely cheating," Elizabeth said solemnly.

John nodded. He took hold of her hand again and squeezed her fingers. "So, tell me about the new place."

She raised her eyebrows, looking slightly mischievous. She leaned even closer and John's heart rate started to go up. "I bought a new bed," she told him, her voice husky. "Big, queen-sized, lots of pillows."

"Elizabeth," he whined.

She chuckled. She was evil to the core, he thought. "Hey, you know you're in for at least _some_ punishment for the last few weeks," she told him.

"Did I mention I was sorry?" he asked humbly. Anything to keep her from teasing him like that again when they had a seven hour train ride ahead of them.

"Once or twice." Her thumb brushed against his lips when her hand cupped his cheek. He leaned in and kissed her, savoring the feeling of her lips and her body. He had no idea how it was that he'd gotten so addicted to her so fast, but he didn't really care anymore.

"I'll make it up to you," he promised. He wouldn't lose her. Not again.

Elizabeth snuggled against him, grinning. "I'll hold you to that."


End file.
